


patron saint of gangland murders

by petemikey



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate universe - Mafia, Guaranteed happy ending, M/M, mafia, mentions of suicide/depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:10:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2765915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petemikey/pseuds/petemikey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard never asked for this. He wishes everyday that he hadn't gone down that back alley that night.</p><p>Once you're involved with the Mafia, you can never get out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	patron saint of gangland murders

**Author's Note:**

> i got the idea for this fic from some picture i saw on Tumblr, so this was basically never meant to happen

None of this was meant to happen.

It wasn’t like he was doing anything _unusual,_ he was just, you know, leaving the bar after getting a drink after a long week of work. Gerard leaves the bar at around half nine, and takes the back alley because it’s quicker and less loud than walking along the main road.

Well it usually is but Gerard wasn’t counting on walking into someone fucking _murdering_ someone.

It’s dark so he can’t see very well, but there’s a short guy holding some tall, fat guy in a business suit at gunpoint. Gerard is a fucking idiot so he decides to get closer, with his back against the wall and shuffles over close enough to hear their conversation.

“What did I tell you last time, Michael?” The short guy asks. Gerard is sure he’s breathing really loudly, but he’s not sure if the two men have seen him.

“Last chance.”  The other one whispers, and then the trigger’s pulled and the guy falls onto the floor. There’s blood everywhere, and before Gerard can run the fuck away the short guy’s pushing _him_ against the wall and covering his mouth with his hand.

“I’ve still got another bullet in this gun. Scream and I’ll kill you. Make a noise and I’ll kill you. Move and I’ll break your arm.”  Gerard would’ve said some witty comment at that, but he’s pretty sure he’s shaking from fear and he’d rather not put a dampener on such an exciting evening.

The short man’s moved his hand from Gerard’s mouth and is grabbing his phone from his pocket. He hits the three key (speed dial?) but his grip on Gerard’s arm gets tighter.

“Boss? Yeah he’s dead. I’m sure. I just fucking kicked the body, I’m sure he’s dead. Yes, yeah, but some guy saw everything what the fuck am I meant to with him? I can’t just leave him to go about his business can I? You want me to take him _home_? To my _house_? Fine, fine, I’ll call you tomorrow.” The guy flips his phone shut and shoves it back in his pocket.

“You heard me, come on.” He drags Gerard to the other side of the alley and pushes him towards the door of the car on the side of the road.

Gerard isn’t sure what to feel. He just witnessed a gangland murder, and now he’s being forced into the murderer’s car, but on the flip side he’s kinda hot.

Dear lord what would Mikey say.

“What’s your name?” The guy asks. He’s putting a Smashing Pumpkins album on and Gerard wants to say something because he likes them, but instead he just tells the guy his name. He’s finally stopped shaking and his breathing has gone back to normal after what must have been at least half an hour.

“Gerard?” He says as the man puts his gun into the glove compartment in front of him.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound too sure.”

“It’s Gerard.” He confirms, pulling his jacket tighter around him. The car starts to speed up as the roads get emptier, the tinted windows preventing anyone from looking inside.

“Gerard, huh? Not a common one.” The guy remarks, lighting up a smoke and sharply turning onto a back road.

Gerard thinks he might have a fear of back roads from now on.

“What the fuck just happened?” The redhead asks regaining his confidence and staring at the tattooed man.

“Not gonna ask my name huh?”

“I mean considering I just saw you fucking murder someone in some alley, whilst I was on my way home, and I’m now being taken back to your _house_ , I think I’ve got a right to wonder what’s happening.” Gerard says with all of these emphatic hand motions, almost hitting the black haired man in the face.

“I’m Frank. I’m in the mafia.” Frank tells Gerard, looking straight at him. Gerard’s head turns to stare at him and his head cranes forward in shock.

Literally what the fuck.

“The _mafia_? I thought that shit was only in Italy in like, the sixties, to make movies from.” Gerard states with a look of confusion. Frank just laughs at him. The idea of the mafia not being real is unfathomable to him. He’s always been involved with it. His dad was high up in some group in New Jersey, and when he was seventeen Wentz dragged him out of college to join the New York squad.

“My surname’s Italian if it means anything.” Frank tells him, throwing his cigarette butt out the window.

“What, like, Frank Del’pasta? Oh God I’m sorry, I do that sometimes and I don’t know any words in Italian.” Gerard isn’t sure what just happened. This guy could kill him right now if he wanted to.

“Buon Dio che cosa mi sta succedendo?” Frank mutters under his breath.

Gerard isn’t going to just ignore the fact that Frank talking in Italian is hot as fuck. He’s not that kind of guy.

It’s a really awkward few minutes. Gerard doesn’t know if he can talk to Frank, and Frank doesn’t have anything to say to him.

“So, uh, why did you kill that guy?” Gerard asks. He knows he’s taking a risk, and it becomes obvious he shouldn’t ask those questions by Frank’s reaction.

“Don’t fucking ask those questions. You wouldn’t understand even if I told you, and if I told you, you wouldn’t be able to get out of this. Just don’t, okay?” Frank takes a deep breath and pulls up outside an apartment block. Gerard wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it seems like it’s just a normal place; nothing particularly interesting or odd.

“Yeah, uh, okay. I won’t ask again.” Gerard tries to open the door of the car but it’s still locked. Is Frank going to keep him in here? Is he going to die in this car? Probably not, but Gerard isn’t going to rule anything out.

“There are a few things we need to go through before you get out of this car, alright?” Frank tells him. He states it as a question, but it’s clear to both parties that it’s not.

“Ok.”

“No one can know about what you just saw. I swear to god if you tell anyone then someone will find out, and I guarantee you’ll be the next to die. Well, probably not the next person to die, but you’ll die nevertheless. Have anyone you’d tell?” Frank asks him, looking at him carefully. It’s a bit of a blunt question and Gerard isn’t sure how to react so he shakes his head and swallows.

“You do. Who is it?” Frank pressures him. Gerard’s mind is screaming MIKEYMIKEYMIKEY, but he refuses to tell Frank about his brother.

“I don’t.” Gerard denies.

“You do. I know you do. I can tell. Sister? Mother? Father? Brother,”  Gerard swallows again when he says brother. “Brother. What’s his name? You can give up the act because I know you would tell your brother and even if you don’t tell me who he is, I can really easily work it out. You telling him would be the start of the story, and I’m sure you know what the ending would be. Bang bang. With both of you.” Frank smiles lazily at Gerard and wipes down his gun.

“His name is Mikey. I won’t tell him, or anyone. I swear.” Gerard wants to hit himself. Repeatedly. He feels like he’s betraying someone or something. This guy just killed someone and now Gerard’s telling him his brother’s name. This should be Bob; he’s the one that watches all the crime dramas.

“Good. I wouldn’t want to shoot such a pretty face. Now get out the car.” Frank unlocks the car and steps out onto the sidewalk, and Gerard does the same. He’s not sure what he should be doing because Frank can go from friendly to ‘I will murder you and your family don’t try me’ in literally ten seconds.

“You can talk you know. I’m not that scary.” Frank tells him whilst punching the door code in. Gerard just doesn’t know what to say, and they probably don’t have any similarities; ‘Hey what do you do in your spare time?’ ‘Kill people’ ‘Cool! I draw comics’.

“This where you live?” It’s a pretty non-judgemental comment, and it shouldn’t give Frank any reason to kill his family.

“No. I just parked my car and used the code to open the door because I felt like breaking into an apartment block with some random guy my boss has told me I need to lodge for an unknown amount of time.” Frank deadpans, but Gerard is more concerned that he’s staying at Frank’s house for an ‘unknown amount of time.’

“An _unknown amount of time_? Are you fucking kidding me? You know, I may not be in your gangland killing squad, but I do have a life, with family and friends and a _job_.” Gerard tells him. The ‘friends’ part isn’t completely true, but who needs friends when you have hundreds of thousands of cat pictures on the internet at your own disposal.

“I don’t make the rules, and if you want to have a go at Pete then I can drive you over there right now. Although I’d advise against it for both of our sakes, because he’d get pissed at me for taking you to him, and he’s already just generally pissed at you because you saw me killing Michael.” Frank unlocks his door and pushes Gerard into his apartment.

“Wait? He’s pissed at _me_ because I saw _you_ killing someone. That makes no sense.” Gerard complains as he throws his bag down on Frank’s floor. He’s hungry, has essentially been kidnapped, and tired as hell. He doesn’t want to be dealing with this shit.

“Yeah well, there isn’t much you can do about it, so sit down, shut up, and enjoy the ride, because you’re never getting off it.” Frank tells him as he grabs a packet of chips from the cupboard.

“Do you have any food? Maybe? Sorry I just haven’t eaten for hours is all.” Gerard tells him, going back to his usual shy and awkward persona. Frank throws him the bag of chips (of which Gerard manages to skilfully drop on the floor) and goes into the fridge and takes out a Tupperware of leftovers for himself.

“Just help yourself to whatever you want. Just make sure you clean up after yourself, yeah?” Frank tells him as he sits on the couch and turns the TV on. Gerard gets up and looks around the kitchen hesitantly. He’s constantly scared that he’s going to fuck up, or do something wrong and Frank is going to pull out his gun and shoot him and it’s giving him anxiety. He grabs an apple and some lasagne from the fridge and walks back into the living room where Frank is watching Hannibal. He looks over at Gerard’s food as he sits down and nods in approval.

“What?” asks Gerard.

“Good choice. It’s my mom’s lasagne; fuckin’ good, I’m telling you.” Frank grins at him and starts chewing again on his chips. Gerard has a bite of the lasagne and _moans_. It is fucking amazing.

“Oh my god.” Gerard says as Frank looks at him.

“You sound like that when you’re having sex?” he asks and watches Gerard turn red.

“You’ve basically kidnapped me, aren’t you meant to hate me or something?” Gerard questions and carries on eating.

“You’re just easy to take advantage of. It’s funny. I never get to play with my food; It’s always just BAM murder.” Frank says everything so easily as if going out and killing people is _normal_. Also, he just said it as if Gerard is his _food_ and that’s just weird and makes him feel even more victimised.

Hannibal is also on TV, which is slightly worrying too.

“This is so weird.” Mutters Gerard. He just went out to get a drink, not whatever this is. How is this even real anyway? Gerard thought shit like this only happened in movies bur he also thought the mafia was only in movies.

Next he’s going to find out that is brother isn’t actually his brother or something.

Speaking of which, Gerard just got a text from Mikey.

“Who is it?” asks Frank, suddenly turning into the ‘I can kill you’ Frank.

“It’s Mikey, my,”

“Brother.”

“Yeah, him.”

Gerard quickly types out a reply telling him not to worry, he’s safe, and he’ll be back whenever. A few seconds later he gets a text back which says something along the lines of ‘you have a job what the fuck are you doing’ which is exactly what Gerard said a few hours prior, except he said ‘what the fuck is happening’ as opposed to ‘what the fuck am I doing’.

“I trust you’re not going to fuck this up right?” Frank tells him, looking him up and down. Gerard exhales deeply and looks back up at the ceiling.

“You wouldn’t have had this problem a year ago.” Gerard admits to him, putting his empty Tupperware onto the coffee table in front of the couch

“What makes you say that?” Frank asks him with a look of confusion quickly passing over his face.

“If I had seen what I saw a year ago, I would have begged you to shoot me as well. You wouldn’t have to worry about me telling anyone what happened because I would be dead as well.” Gerard tells him. Frank tries to say something but he can’t think of what to say, and that’s when it hits Gerard.

“I’m sorry?” Frank asks. He looks around trying to think of what to say, but in the end there’s nothing.  
In reality, he doesn’t know Gerard. Not at all.

“You’re just a cold hearted murderer. How could you possibly empathise with that. You don’t want to be killed, you want to kill. Why else would you do what you do?” and that’s the stone cold truth. (At least it is in Gerard’s eyes.)

**Author's Note:**

> ah okay this is my first multichap so updates are probably going to be really !!!??? Basically if you get a chapter, you get a chapter, if you don't get a chapter, you don't get a chapter.
> 
> also i'm not even sure if this is worth continuing so if you left a comment that would be !!! thank u friend
> 
> italian translation:  
> 'Buon Dio che cosa mi sta succedendo?'  
> Dear God what is happening to me?


End file.
